


garbage cannot

by Lliyk



Series: you deserve rounds tonight [1]
Category: DBSK | Tohoshinki | TVfXQ | TVXQ
Genre: Beyoncé Knowels, F/M, Gen, Jay-Z - Freeform, Jung Yunho/Beyoncé Knowels, M/M, Open Relationships, Toys, i am screaming, music rpf - Freeform, this is the most ridiculous shit i have ever written
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-18
Updated: 2016-03-18
Packaged: 2018-05-27 13:26:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6286456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lliyk/pseuds/Lliyk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><a href="http://homin-kink.livejournal.com/1788.html?thread=73212#t73212"><b><span class="u">prompt:</span></b></a> changmin hires beyoncé to fuck yunho with a strap on dildo. jay-z comes to beat the shit out of him later.</p><p>[excerpt] <i>yunho thinks he might actually cry when he walks into changmin's apartment. there is a mortified girl with a name tag plastered crookedly to her shirt sitting ramrod straight on the couch, kyuhyun is deleting something off of his phone with a frown and changmin is wearing a death glare combined with a satisfied tug of his mouth.</i></p><p> <i>beyoncé is having tea at the kitchen table.</i></p><p> <i>"what the fuck?"</i></p><p> <i> four pairs of too brown eyes snap up at him, and yunho feels this raw, instinctual desire to <b>run</b>.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	garbage cannot

**Author's Note:**

> for **kenzie** :  
> 

* * *

 

 

beyoncé's translator—jamie, her name tag says—stares, face twisted and mouth half open as she looks at changmin.

"you want her to _what_ ,"

changmin just holds the envelope full of cash up a little higher, face impassive. beyoncé either is or is not going to say no, and he's hoping for the former. those pictures on kyuhyun's phone from last night depend on it.

jamie squints at changmin, the gears turning in her head, and she stutters a little when she realizes who changmin is. her gaze flicks from the closed dressing room door to the tall popstar in front of her and she considers the social standing. to say no would practically be an insult to the country, but then again, beyoncé is beyoncé.

and beyoncé is... married...

"uh," jamie twiddles her fingers, trips over her usually flawless korean, nervous now. "i don't think that. smart. wise, i mean. i don't think that would be wise."

changmin sticks to his silent tactic, shakes the envelope between his fingers with a minute raise of his eyebrow.

"jamie," the translator's name comes from behind the both of them, and jamie stills so suddenly that changmin knows who it is immediately, despite not having heard the voice doing anything other than singing the world's favorite songs.

beyoncé is in a glittering dress that fits her in a way that would otherwise make anyone else's mouth go dry, but changmin has thoughts of only one, and that's part of the reason why he's here. two birds one stone.

beyoncé slides her eyes over changmin once, and bows a little, to changmin's actual, shouldn't be surprise. he bows back, quiet still, and beyoncé turns back to jamie with a perfectly arched eyebrow.

"what's going on?" beyoncé asks, and then the rest is a little lost on him, but telling from the way jamie slowly starts talking, and the way beyoncé's face scrunches prettily in vague disbelief, he gathers that the message has been delivered.

when beyoncé looks at him next, it's with a calculating, lingering gaze. she shoots out a question, and jamie translates with strained lips.

"are you a fan?"

changmin waves his other hand in a tilt motion. "not really, but as a fellow artist, i get it."

"get what?" jamie asks quizzically. changmin gives a small shake of his head, and thinks that jamie must definitely be new.

"just tell her that _i get it_."

even in english, jamie's voice sounds reluctant as she relays changmin's words. it doesn't matter though. beyoncé looks at him with a small smile and bounces her shoulders in a shrug.

"yeah, okay."

 

*

 

yunho thinks he might actually cry when he walks into changmin's apartment. there is a mortified girl with a name tag plastered crookedly to her shirt sitting ramrod straight on the couch, kyuhyun is deleting something off of his phone with a frown and changmin is wearing a death glare combined with a satisfied tug of his mouth.

beyoncé is having tea at the kitchen table.

"what the fuck?"

four pairs of too brown eyes snap up at him, and yunho feels this raw, instinctual desire to _run_.

"i thought we were having dinner," he chokes out, eyes wide and forcibly glued to changmin.

"change of plans." changmin stalks towards yunho and guides him to the kitchen table with a wave to the girl one the couch, who scurries over and starts talking as soon as changmin does. "yunho, beyoncé. beyoncé, yunho. he's the one."

the girl, a translator, yunho realizes—jamie, her nametag reads—talks hurriedly to beyoncé, who merely nods in an odd aura of understanding.

she stands and offers a little bow, which yunho hastily returns, dumbstruck.

"my pleasure," she says, and the sound of her voice washes over yunho is a soothing manner. suddenly he feels rejuvenated and clensed. he tries not the let the feeling overshadow the huge, looming question of _what the fuck_.

"hi," yunho pours the word out slowly, unsure and oddly afraid to fuck up.

"great, now that we've introduced ourselves—yunho, yun, yunnie—" yunho realizes with a slamming horror that changmin wants something—"remember that one time we had a talk about a night with a willing lady partner?"

the blood drains out of yunho's face, and he manages to shoot out, "i thought you meant boa. jihyun—shit, changmin, anyone—but—" yunho resists the urge to tug at his hair. " _beyoncé_?"

"yes." beyoncé says, a mixture of demanding and calm as she looks yunho in the eye.

"the sooner the better," jamie tells them as beyoncé's mouth moves. "she has a flight to catch in three hours."

yunho looks at jamie, then to kyuhyun, and then to changmin, who just looks at him with an almost apologetic expectancy.

finally he looks at beyoncé. she offers yunho a small flash of teeth, and that clensed feeling hits him again. shoulders slumping a little, yunho sucks in a breath, says,

"yeah, okay."

 

*

 

for someone who exudes such power on stage, beyoncé is gentle, and yunho supposes that he already has more in common with her than he would have ever thought.

thinking, something he is not doing, because beyoncé knowels-carter is ever so nonchalantly stretching him apart with deft fingers as she lubes up the strap on she has tied to her thighs with the other.

if it weren't for changmin sitting right in front of the bed where yunho can clearly see him, yunho is more than sure he would be infinitely more freaked out. instead he doesn't feel too bad, comfortable even, and changmin keeps their eyecontact and occasionally murmurs praise.

yunho can't help the low moan that rips from his throat when beyoncé replaces her fingers with the strap on cock. it's cool inside of him but her hips are warm and perfect against the back of his thighs. her fingers move to knead into his ass slowly, to steeple carefully in the dents of his hips, and the smooth motions have yunho resisting the urge to thrust into the sheets for more friction. the sound of beyoncé's soft assuring hums makes him shudder, and it's in that second of a frame that she slides into yunho in one long, deep, slick snap forward.

yunho shouts into the sheets, and out in front of them, changmin gives a low chuckle.

the ridges of the fake cock slide inside of yunho unfairly, and his fingers grapple at the duvet, trapped there when beyoncé places her palms over the backs of his and holds him there.

"is this okay?" she asks gently, rocking just so.

yunho feels stretched and wound tight all at once, feels oddly taken care of even though it is not changmin taking such precautions with him in the bed, though his constant presence in front of him is his anchor. at some sort of peace, yunho makes an affirmative sound, eyes flicking wide when beyoncé places an acknowledging peck onto the crook of his shoulder.

the searing in yunho's back turns into a dull throb of excited pleasure when beyoncé slides back, thrusts going from quick to deliberate and deep. spots gather behind yunho's eyes when the cock slides over his prostate, and beyoncé must know because she pauses, angles, slides right back in and makes yunho choke on a scream.

"fuck, fuck oh my god—"

changmin's voice comes to yunho as if he's underwater, the only prominent sounds in his ears being beyoncé's quickening pants and his own pulse.

"christ, yunho, yes, you're taking it so, so well."

yunho arches at the words, cock heavy and dragging against the duvet so deliciously that he racks with the need for release. he chases it, words flying from his mouth in a splay of different languages.

he is done for when beyoncé slides her fingers into his hair, tugs, leans down and nips at his ear, murmurs in accented korean,

" _let go."_

orgasm shoots through yunho like splintering electricity. his fingers tingle, his breath catches, changmin is there, caressing and proud and helping the goddess above him bring him down.

yunho comes down heavy with black spots dancing in his vision.

he sleeps.

 

*

 

yunho is startled from sleep with a burning pain zigzagging down his face. his vision is blurry from rest and sudden pain and all he catches is the a glare possibly stronger than changmin's and a flash of brown skin—"you're lucky she told me to go easy on you,"—it's gone in a second and in the next the front door is slaming shut.

he knows it's changmin that stirs in bed next to him, just changmin, and yunho feels the blood dripping down his nose in dawning awareness.

the clock reads 3:46am, and there is a note in neat, neat english on his nightstand.

"did i just get decked in the face by fucking jay-z,"

changmin cracks an eye open at him, assesses the damage and apparently deems yunho just fine.

"yeah, probably."

 

**Author's Note:**

> so many typos, sorry.


End file.
